


5 times spider-man crawled through johnny storm's window

by flamebrain



Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Secret Identity, Vulnerability, dabbling in canon, johnny is a dumbass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-07-21 01:55:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16150100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamebrain/pseuds/flamebrain
Summary: ...and 1 time the opposite happened.Johnny's eyes flicked to his glowing alarm clock, which read 3:23 AM. “Whatthefuck,” he mumbled, stumbling towards his window. Johnny was jolted to full attention when he reached it, jumping just a little.Spider-man was at his window?y'all know how these go.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> i'm a thot for 5+1 fics, i'm a thot for spideytorch, i'm a thot for the climbing through each others' windows trope, why not combine the three
> 
> tumblr: flamebrain

_ Tap. Tap. _

 

“Unnhhhh…” Johnny groaned, not even half awake. “Go away…”

 

Unfortunately, the tapping continued. Johnny was officially brought to half-consciousness as he realized this wasn't part of his dream. He regretfully opened his eyes and flicked his finger like a match for lighting. Flame powers were useful like that. He scanned the room for the source of the tapping. Not coming from the door. Not coming from the wall. Not coming from the ceiling. Coming from-- the window?

 

Johnny swung his legs around so that he was sitting on the edge of his bed. His eyes flicked to his glowing alarm clock, which read  _ 3:23 AM _ . “Whatthefuck,” he mumbled, stumbling towards his window. Johnny was jolted to full attention when he reached it, jumping just a little.

 

Spider-man was at his window?

 

“I've gotta be dreaming,” Johnny muttered as he slid the window up. He backed up as Spidey started to climb through, not speaking a word.

 

“Hey, man, I was having a grand ole time sleeping, did you really  _ have  _ to-” Johnny cut himself short as he clicked his lamp on and Spider-man fell the rest of the way through his window, hitting the ground with a dull thump.

 

“Woah, hey,” Johnny said, rushing over. He knelt next to the masked man and assessed the damage. There were several tears in his suit, a particularly big one on his side exposing his bloody, bruised skin. Drops of blood were seeping into Johnny's carpet. Johnny could feel himself starting to panic.

 

“I feel better than I look,” Spidey groaned. “Don't have a healing factor for nothing.”

 

“Why are you here then?” Johnny said, immediately realizing how rude it sounded. “I mean, not that I don't want you here, it's just, uh, if you-” Johnny could feel a blush creeping into his cheeks when Spidey cut him off.

 

“I needed someone to patch me up who wouldn't totally flip their shit,” he said bluntly. “You came to mind.”

 

“Uh…” Johnny was at a loss for words. “What do you want me to do?”

 

“Oh, I don't know, maybe stop all this bleeding?” Spidey said sarcastically. Johnny facepalmed.

 

“Right. Right. I'm an idiot,” Johnny stammered. “Uh, why don't you just come across the hall to the bathroom?” Johnny lifted himself to his feet and started walking that way, then realized that Spidey wasn't following. He turned to see him still on the ground.

 

“It's not like I can just do that by myself right now, flamebrain,” Spidey groaned. He extended his hand. “A little help?”

 

“Yeah. Yeah.” Johnny hoped Spidey couldn't see how his warm face matched the crimson color of his suit. If he could (he definitely could, he wasn't blind, stupid Johnny), hopefully he'd just assume that was how Johnny always looked. Flame powers, and all. Johnny took Spider-man's hand in his and helped lift him up. The man groaned again, slinging his arm around Johnny's shoulders. Together, they limped across the hall to Johnny's bathroom.

 

“Are those… Spider-man pajama pants?” Spidey wheezed as he sat on Johnny's counter. Johnny didn't have to see his face to know he was smirking under the mask.

 

“Maybe,” Johnny muttered, trying to keep the sparks begging to fly from his hair at bay. He busied himself with getting the bandages out from his cabinet. At least this night couldn't get any worse. Right? Right.

 

He set the bandages next to Spidey, putting his hands on his hips. It was then that he realized he was wrong.

 

“You're gonna have to take the top of your suit off.” Maybe the right words were  _ at least his face couldn't get any redder. _

 

“Got any scissors? This thing comes off all at once or not at all.” Johnny nodded, trying to keep that imagery out of his head as he pulled a pair of scissors from the drawer.

 

“Do you have any scratches on your legs?” Johnny asked, apprehensive. To his relief, Spidey shook his head, continuing to cut away the fabric of his suit. Johnny hoped he had an extra one. What was he thinking? Spider-man _ definitely _ had extra suits. Johnny could be so stupid sometimes.

 

“What next, hot stuff?” Johnny was jolted from his thoughts as he realized that Spidey had gotten the rest of his suit top cut away. His body was covered in bruises, and blood leaked from a few cuts in his side.

 

“Oh. Right.” Johnny reached for the bandages, trying  _ not _ to think about how good Spidey would look when he wasn't all beat up like this. He unrolled a few feet of bandage, starting to wrap it around Spidey's torso. Once he got to the gash in his side, the man shrunk away from him in pain, arrogant aura fading. Johnny could sense the wince under his mask.

 

“Jeez, I may have superpowers, but I'm not invincible,” Spidey said through clenched teeth. “Be a bit more gentle, would ya?”

 

“Sorry,” Johnny said. “I have to compress the wound tight enough to stop the bleeding. Can't really be gentle. Just bear with me for a minute, okay?”

 

“Hold on-” Johnny paused to let Spidey roll up his mask. “Need to breathe. Go ahead.”

 

Johnny continued wrapping Spidey's torso. He could feel the man tense up every time he passed over the wound, and Johnny jumped when Spider-man's hand flew to his.

 

“Hurts… just a bit,” Spidey wheezed, nearly squeezing the life out of Johnny's hand. Goddamn super strength.

 

“And… we're done,” Johnny said, pinning the bandage together. “Not so bad, huh?”

 

Spidey shrugged. “Been through worse.” Johnny looked down, noticing Spidey was still holding his hand. Johnny awkwardly drew his hand back, wiping off the… blood?

 

“Okay, looks like we're not done yet,” Johnny sighed, gazing at the cut in Spidey's hand. He grabbed what was left of the roll of bandages, motioning for Spidey to hold out his hand. He complied, gently resting it in Johnny's palm. Neither of them spoke as Johnny tenderly wrapped Spidey's hand. His hands were rough with blisters, but Johnny could tell that they were gentle when they weren't connecting with a bad guy's face. He wondered what it would be like. To just hold his hand. Johnny's wrapping went on autopilot, lost in thought.

 

“Thanks for not freaking out,” Spidey murmured once Johnny was done, drawing him out of his reverie. Spidey tried to squeeze Johnny's hand, then drew it back as if he'd touched a hot stove. “Ow! Shit!”

 

“Yeah, I wouldn't try that just yet,” Johnny laughed. Spidey grinned, lifting himself off the counter and standing in front of Johnny.

 

“Thanks for fixing me up, hot stuff,” he said, tucking a loose strand of Johnny's hair behind his ear. “I gotta get going.”

 

“Yeah,” Johnny breathed, letting Spider-man pass him. It wasn't until after he'd climbed out Johnny's window and swung away that Johnny realized he probably shouldn't have let him go off on his own. But if he was feeling well enough to swing home, well, the wound must've not been that bad in the first place. With that, Johnny melted back into his bed with a smile, finally letting the sparks fly from his hair.


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> been busy but here we have another update !!

The second time Spider-man tapped on his window, it was evening, and the sun was just beginning to set. Johnny eagerly crossed the room to slide open the window, watching Spidey crawl through.

 

“Couldn't stand being away from this pretty face, huh?” he quipped. He was met with an uncharacteristic cold silence. It felt like Johnny had flown right into a brick wall. He scanned Spider-man up and down for injuries, but he seemed to be fine. Other than the fact that he'd slipped in without a word and sullenly plopped down in Johnny's bed, head in his hands.

 

“Hey, you alright?” Johnny asked, gentler this time.

 

“Not really, no,” Spidey replied curtly. Johnny could feel the tension in the air. Not the exciting, arousing kind, but the kind that makes you feel like you could say one word and it'd set off an atomic bomb. He could make one move and the glass would shatter.

 

“Talk to me,” Johnny said softly. “Tell me what's going on. You've got me worried.”

 

Spider-man sighed. “You ever have something terrible happen? Something absolutely life ruining? And deep down-” he took a sharp breath. “And deep down, you know it's your fault.” He took another shaky breath, and Johnny strode over to the bed, sitting down beside him.

 

“You gotta stop being all vague with me,” Johnny murmured. “That's not gonna help. You can trust me. Just talk. I'll listen.” Johnny laid his hand on Spidey's thigh and absentmindedly started tracing little circles with his thumb.

 

“It happened a while ago,” Spidey said quietly. “Years ago from today, actually. It was when I first got my powers. There was this burglar.” He took another deep, shaky breath. “I didn't stop him, because I didn't care. I didn't think it was my job to stop him, just because I had these powers.” Johnny heard a sniffle, and his heart jolted when he realized Spidey was crying under the mask.

 

Johnny reached for Spider-man's hand, and Spidey took it. He felt a sense of gratefulness from the other hero. “It's okay,” Johnny whispered.

 

“But it's not,” Spidey said, almost angrily. “I let him go, and later he- he killed my uncle.” Spidey's voice broke, and his back slumped. “And it was all my fault. And it's the anniversary and I can't stop thinking about it and-”

 

Johnny squeezed Spidey's hand, causing him to trail off. “Hey,” Johnny said, rubbing his circles into Spidey's hand. “It wasn't your fault.”

 

“But I could've stopped him, and I didn't!” Spidey was straight up sobbing now. “My fault. My fault he's dead, my-”

 

“Stop!” Johnny said firmly. His mind was racing. He was going to make this better. “We gotta get you some fresh air.” He knew the perfect place. “Nothing a little web-swinging won't fix, eh?”

 

“But-” Johnny didn't give him time to finish a sentence before he was bursting into flames and flying out his window.

 

“Follow me!”

 

Flying through the city always helped Johnny decompress. It made his heart race, made him feel like all his worries got swept away in the wind. It was like runner's high- was flyer's high a thing? If so, that's what Johnny felt. Euphoria. A way to just forget for a little while.

 

The sun was just finishing its journey below the horizon when Johnny said, out of breath, “Aaand we're here.” He spread his arms out to reveal-

 

“The Statue of Liberty?” Spider-man said from the ground. Johnny could practically see the confused frown under his mask.

 

“C’mere,” Johnny told him, perching himself on the top of the Statue and patting the spot next to him. “Don't worry, the tours have stopped by now.”

 

Spidey carefully made his way up and sat next to Johnny. Their knees touched, and Johnny could still feel that tension coming off his fellow hero, but it felt slightly more relaxed. Hopefully that wasn't just Johnny's imagination.

 

“Sorry for kind of ruining your night,” Spider-man said with a sigh.

 

“You didn't,” Johnny said. He felt his chest twinge. “I don't ever see you as a nuisance, Spidey. You ever need to talk again, I'm here.”

 

“Thanks, Torch,” Spidey said softly, reaching for Johnny's hand again. Johnny gladly took it, noting that Spidey hadn't used some dumb nickname for him this time. “I guess I just needed a distraction,” he mumbled, leaning into Johnny.

 

Johnny let go of Spidey's hand to wrap his arm around his broad shoulders. “Take as much time as you need.” Spidey nodded and laid his head on Johnny's shoulder.

 

Johnny had no idea how much time had passed before Spider-man lifted his head from his shoulder. All he'd been thinking about was how strange it was to see Spidey so vulnerable like this, all wisecracks and teasing nicknames gone. It was almost scary, actually.

 

“I should probably get going,” Spidey murmured. Through the darkness, Johnny could just barely make out how Spidey was pushing his mask up to his nose. Before Johnny could say anything, Spider-man was pressing a kiss to his lips.

 

It was short, but it felt like time had stopped. Warmth flooded his body, and his eyes slid shut. Johnny was frozen. His mind was going a million miles an hour. Spider-man was kissing him.  _Spider-man was kissing him,_ and Johnny could feel the start of flames licking at his hair. Spidey's nose brushed his as he shifted, pulling away. Eyes still shut, Johnny could feel his warm breath ghosting over his lips as he whispered, “Thank you.” And in classic Spider-man fashion, he was out of sight before Johnny could do anything else about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> flamebrain on tumblr


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know it's been a month and a half since i updated this don't talk to me just take it

The next time Spider-man showed up at Johnny's window, it was one of those November nights where the sun had already set at 5:30pm. Which, by the way, Johnny hated because it screwed up his internal sleep clock (what was that called? His  _ cicada rhythm _ ?) and he was already snoozing by 5:45. He was awoken from his peaceful slumber by a loud banging on his window. Groggily climbing out of bed was becoming a routine, he thought as he sludged over to the window to find, (surprise, surprise) his favorite web-slinger perched on the sill.

 

“Whassamatter?” he grumbled, sliding the window up. The biting wind hit him like a brick wall, and he sparked his hands on to feel their soft warmth. The flickering light illuminated Spider-man's mask, the eyes ever so cold and calculating. Johnny wished he could see the eyes under the mask.

 

“Could use your help right about now, matchstick,” Spidey said, and the tone of his voice snapped Johnny out of his groggy half-wakefulness. It suggested that the hero may as well have been spitting at one of his many arch-nemises.

 

Johnny rolled his eyes and uttered his classic “Flame on!” and then “ _ shit _ !” after realizing that the clothes he was wearing were, tragically, not fireproofed. He extinguished himself and pretended to ignore Spider-man's laughter.

 

“I'll be right back,” he muttered, ripping the burnt tatters of his shirt off his body.

 

* * *

 

Johnny Storm really hated the Shocker. It wasn't the usual  _ I-hate-you-because-you're-an-evil-supervillan-who-kills-innocent-people  _ kind of hate; it was more of a  _ I-thought-we-already-put-you-in-jail-five-times-this-week-why-won't-you-just-quit-it-for-an-hour  _ kind of hate. He hated the straight-up nuisance of a villain even more, though, when one of his electrically charged fists connected with the middle of Spider-man's chest.

 

“No!” Johnny screamed as Spidey's body flew backwards, hitting the wall with a sickening thump and crumpling to the ground, unmoving. “You'll pay for that!  _ Flame on! _ ”

 

He could feel the rage consume his body as he flew towards the Shocker feet-first. The move was one he'd picked up from Spidey, and it worked exceptionally well. Especially on an unsuspecting Shocker who was too busy reveling in his small victory to pay attention to the fact that Johnny was still up and kicking. Literally.  _ Dumbass,  _ Johnny thought as his flaming foot connected with the criminal's face. The Shocker screamed in pain. Johnny gave him a vicious punch to the nose and he fell to the ground, unconscious and in perfect condition for New York's finest to pick him up and cart him off to jail for the sixth time.

 

Now: Spider-man.

 

“Spidey!” Johnny yelled as he rushed over to the unmoving body crumpled at the end of the alleyway. His uniform was smoking slightly from the shocks, and he- he wasn't breathing-

 

“No, shit, Spidey, c'mon, wake up…” Johnny whimpered, gently shaking him. He could feel his own heart rate escalating and tried not to start hyperventilating as he grabbed Spider-man's limp wrist, feeling for a pulse. Something. Anything.

 

Nothing.

 

The tears spilled freely from Johnny's eyes now. “You've gotta wake up, buddy, please,” he begged, taking his hand and shaking him harder. “I'm right here!” Spidey's head lolled lifelessly to the side, and his fingers felt cold and fragile in Johnny's grasp. “Wake up, wake up…” He- he just-

 

_ What was he doing?! _

 

Johnny shook his head and felt like hitting himself. He knew CPR, for heaven's sake! He laid Spider-man's body gently to the ground and began compressions. He could feel more tears boiling behind his eyes and he could feel the anxious sparks flying from his body, but he kept counting the compressions at a steady tempo in his mind. He frantically rolled Spidey’s mask up to his nose to do the breaths.  _ One. Two. _ His chest jerked with the breaths before going still again.

 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Johnny muttered, panting. He began a second round of compressions. “Please, wake u-”

 

Spider-man jerked up with a rattling gasp, clutching Johnny’s wrists like a lifeline. “Johnny?” he panted. “Where- where’s the Shocker, I’ll get him, I-”

 

“Will you stop it?!” Johnny was surprised at the anger in his voice. More tears flowed down his face, so much that his eyes felt tired from crying. “You died! You weren’t breathing, no pulse, you were  _ dead _ !” Johnny felt the tension ebb out of Spidey, and he hung his head with a sigh. “God, I- I thought I lost you-”

 

He was cut off when Spidey pulled him down by the back of his head and kissed him. Johnny tensed for a moment, then sighed into the kiss. He felt Spidey running his hands through his hair, and he traced Spidey’s cheek with his thumb. He could feel the tears drip onto the mask, but he didn’t care. Spidey was alive, and he was here, kissing him, and kissing him, and-

 

Spidey pulled away. Johnny fell forward a little in surprise, and Spidey chuckled. The hero reached up to tuck a lock of Johnny’s hair behind his ear. “Listen,” he murmured. His hand slid down to meet Johnny’s. “You’re not ever gonna lose me. Okay? I promise.” He pressed another soft kiss to Johnny’s lips.

 

“I’m not going anywhere either,” Johnny said, smiling into the kiss. “Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Promise. I’ll always be right here. Okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Spidey sighed. “That sounds… fantastic.” Johnny started laughing, and within a few seconds he was laughing so hard that he had to pull away. Spidey started laughing too.

 

“Okay, maybe not the best word choice,” he chuckled.

 

“No, it’s perfect,” Johnny wheezed. After they’d both calmed down, Johnny took a long look at Spider-man.

 

“Hey,” he said softly. “Come sleep at my place tonight, okay? You need rest, and I gotta make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

 

“Coming from a guy who’s nothing but stupid.”

 

“This is different,” Johnny said in a fake stern tone, waggling his finger at Spidey. His smile faded after a few seconds. “Seriously. Last time you snuck out on me, and I- I care about you. Please don’t get yourself hurt. Just rest. C’mon.”

 

Spidey sighed. “If you say so.” Johnny reached out a hand to help him up, and he pretended not to notice the other hero’s labored breathing. He slung Spidey’s arm over his shoulders and walked him out to the edge of the alleyway. They sat on a nearby bench, Johnny tracing small circles into Spidey’s hand as they waited for a taxi to pass by. He sure as hell wasn’t going to fly Spidey home in this condition.

 

Once they were back at the Baxter Building and up in Johnny’s room, Spidey flopped onto Johnny’s bed with a sigh. “Okay, hot stuff. Maybe I did need this.” Johnny snorted and rolled his eyes as he went to close his still-open window. The breeze was abruptly cut off and the city’s background noise was muffled as he slid it shut.

 

“Not like that did anything, it’s been open for hours and it’s still freezing in here,” Spidey said with a teasing tone. “Not all of us have flame powers.”

 

Johnny rolled his eyes, climbing into the bed next to him and throwing a sheet over the both of them. He pressed a kiss to Spidey’s cheek as he threw an arm over his waist and pulled him close. “Now don’t you go anywhere. You promised.”

 

“Only if you warm me up.”

 

He focused and brought a little warmth to his skin. Spidey sighed and leaned into the heat.

 

“That’s better, pretty boy,” he murmured, already half asleep. Johnny smiled into his shoulder as he closed his eyes. He smiled even more in the morning when Spidey was still there, curled into him, and the beams of light from the window cast a glow over the tufts of brown hair sticking out from the mask. He wasn’t going anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all i'm gonna say is i've been looking forward to writing the next chapter ;)
> 
> flamebrain on tumblr


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i started and restarted this chapter at least four times and finally, here it is. i'll have you know there are entire parts of this chapter that i wanted to include but scrapped because i couldn't find a way to fit them in. but that's just how writing goes. kill your darlings.
> 
> i'm sorry in advance.

Peter Parker couldn’t take it anymore.

 

It’d been a week since it happened. Peter hadn’t been able to sleep, and the only reason he’d eaten anything was because MJ forced him to. He pushed himself off the ratty couch he’d been sprawled on for the past seven days, and black spots consumed his vision. He reached out and found the arm of the couch, steadying himself until the lightheadedness ebbed.

 

Okay, maybe MJ was right.

 

He stumbled over to his fridge and pulled out the leftover pizza from two days ago. He normally hated cold pizza, but he didn’t care enough to warm it up, so he ate a few slices straight from the box. After gulping down a glass of water, he took a deep breath. Maybe patrolling would help. He hadn’t gone out on patrol since it happened.

 

Five minutes later he was on the roof of his building, taking a swan dive into thin air before shooting a web out at the last second. This was the part he loved about being Spider-man; he almost felt like he was flying as he gracefully swung through the air. He didn’t have to think about where to shoot webs next; years of practice and his enhanced senses took care of that. In fact, he wasn’t thinking much about where he was going, either, which is why Peter took a sharp breath when he came back to reality and realized where he was.

 

The cold wind bit at his skin as he sat perched on a building’s edge, staring across at the Baxter Building. Johnny’s window stared back, and Peter felt a pang of familiarity as he leapt across the gap. Once he reached the windowsill, he carefully slid the window open and climbed in without a sound. After he slid the window shut, Peter turned around and his breath immediately caught in his chest.

 

The room was just as Johnny had left it: sheets a mess, empty chip bag on the floor, dirty clothes in a pile in the corner. Peter felt a fresh wave of emotion wash over him, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He tore his mask off and let the tears fall freely as he sank into Johnny’s bed. The sheets still smelled like him. Peter would give anything to see his smile one more time, to feel his lips against his, to watch the sparks fly from his hair when he called him one of his stupid nicknames.

 

But he couldn’t, he never would, because Johnny was gone, and Peter knew the nature of loss all too well.

 

There was a news clipping on his nightstand. It was printed on the glossy paper that those stupid tabloids used, and the (albeit blurry) photo was of the Statue of Liberty. Peter gently picked up the picture, and noticed a red speck next to a glowing yellow speck on top of the statue. He sucked in a sob as he realized it was from the night he’d gone to talk to Johnny about Uncle Ben. A tiny heart was scribbled in the corner of the picture.

 

“Oh, Johnny…” Peter whispered, putting his head in his shaky hands. His tears bled through the spandex of his gloves. “What am I gonna do without you?”

 

“Spider-man?”

 

Peter whipped his head up and felt his heart leap into his throat. Sue Storm-Richards was standing in the doorway of the room. He fumbled for his mask even though it was too late; Sue had still seen his face. How had his spider-senses not gone off?

 

“Hey. It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone,” Sue said softly.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Peter said, trying to calm his shaky, uneven breaths. “I was just- just passing by, and I probably should’ve asked before I-”

 

“Stop apologizing,” Sue murmured. “I know how much Johnny meant to you. It’s okay.” She slowly strode over and sat next to Peter on the bed.

 

“I just… really miss him,” Peter said, bringing a gloved hand up to wipe his eyes.

 

“I know. Me too.” Sue wrapped her arms around Peter, and he melted into her touch. For a while they just sat there, Peter sobbing into Sue’s shoulder and Sue gently rocking him back and forth.

 

“Shhh. It’s okay. We’re okay, Spidey.”

 

“Peter.”

 

“What?”

 

“My name’s… it’s Peter.” He held back another sob. “I didn’t even get to tell him my name, Sue, I…”

 

Sue stroked his hair comfortingly. “He loved you, you know that? He loved you just as much, maybe more than me, Ben, Reed… you really were family to him, Peter.”

 

“There were so many things…” Peter took a deep, shaky breath. “I didn’t get to tell him that. That I loved him. And sometimes, I feel, I feel like…” He trailed off.

 

“Feel like what, Peter?”

 

“I feel like it should’ve been me. I could’ve saved him, I should’ve been here--”

 

“No, stop, there was nothing you could’ve done,” Sue said. Peter could hear her voice wavering for the first time since they’d been talking. “You need to stop blaming yourself for this. Johnny wouldn’t have wanted that.”

 

“He had so much…” Peter whimpered. “He didn’t need to die. I should’ve been, he w-”

 

“Peter.” Sue took him by the shoulders, and Peter’s breath stopped as she made eye contact. Her eyes were just like Johnny’s. Big, blue, beautiful. They also had tears in them, threatening to spill over. “This is not your fault. You hear me? You’re right, Johnny did have a lot. He had me, he had you, he had an entire family. But you know what? He gave his life so that you and me, we could keep on living. He did this because he loved you. And I won’t have let my brother die just for you to turn around and wallow in self-pity. It’s okay to feel sad. But this. Is. Not. Your. Fault.”

 

Peter watched a tear drip off Sue’s chin, and he looked behind her at one of the photos Johnny had on his wall. It was of him and the rest of the FF, and he looked happier than ever. Family was everything to Johnny; so much so that he would have-  _ did-  _ sacrifice himself for them.

 

“Pick yourself back up,” Sue finished softly. “For Johnny. Okay?”

 

Peter closed his eyes and nodded. “For… for Johnny.”

 

* * *

 

Peter visited Johnny’s grave that night. There had been no body to bury; Reed had tried to recover it from the Negative Zone, but to no avail. Peter hadn’t gone to the funeral. It would’ve been one too many, a stark reminder of how everyone he gets close to ends up leaving him one way or another. Usually in the worst way.

 

Peter sat on the cold, grassy ground. He hadn’t swung to the cemetery; he’d taken the subway, no costume. For once he wanted to visit Johnny as Peter Parker, not as Spider-man. He traced the letters of Johnny’s name on the stone. Jonathan Lowell Spencer Storm. He’d never known Johnny’s full name until now. If Johnny was alive, he probably would have made fun of him for it, but he thought it was beautiful.

 

“Hey, flamebrain,” he said softly. “We had something pretty good going, didn’t we? Then you had to go and die on me.” He chuckled sadly, tugging a blade of grass out of the ground absentmindedly. “Bound to happen sometime, huh? Just didn’t think it would be you.”

 

He was silent for a moment. He was used to talking like this, talking to people who couldn’t respond. “Sue misses you too. We talked today. She said I shouldn’t blame myself, and I… I think maybe she’s right. You’ve got a pretty good sister, hot stuff.”

 

He didn’t know how long he sat there, mind drifting away. Occasionally he’d talk to Johnny, other times he’d go back to tracing Johnny’s name, over and over. At some point, he got a text from MJ. She was checking up on him, making sure he didn’t do anything stupid. Peter sighed. He should probably go home. With a grunt, he stood up, legs stiff.

 

“I promised not to leave you, and I won’t,” Peter murmured, taking one last look at the stone. “I’ll be back. I promise. Goodbye, love.”

 

He walked into the night, alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theres a reason one of the tags is "dabbling in canon." yes, i am aware that canonically peter reveals his identity to johnny far before the negative zone plotline, but for the purposes of this story johnny doesn't know peter's secret identity before he dies. because i said so. also, peter gets johnny's final message shortly after this chapter takes place and continues in his place in the FF (just like in canon).
> 
> next chapter will not be this angsty!! i promise, as they say ;))  
> tumblr: flamebrain


	5. 5

Peter was in Reed's lab fighting a bunch of bugs when the portal started to open.

 

He could see the lock clicking open out of the corner of his eye. Peter threw another punch at a bug, and its face squelched as gelatinous green liquid splattered Peter's masked face. He was just about to make a remark about how absolutely disgusting it was when he heard the door start to open.

 

“Oh no,” he muttered, slapping another bug out of the way. He crouched and put a hand up to his face, but it failed to block out the blinding light coming from the portal. Once it dissipated, Peter let out a breathtaking gasp.

 

He felt like his breath had stopped, and maybe it had, because there was no way what he was seeing was real. No way, he must be dead, because standing in front of him was a not dead, very much alive (and on fire) Johnny Storm.

 

Recognition sparked in his eyes. “Spidey?” He smiled. “What the hell are you wearing?”

 

“ _ Johnny? _ ” His heart still felt stopped. This was impossible, because Johnny was dead. He'd been dead for  _ two years. _

 

“Yeah,” Johnny said. “And seriously…” Peter didn't register the rest of whatever Johnny said. His brain blocked out the rest of his senses as he just took Johnny in. He looked older, more battle-worn. His hair was darker than it used to be, more of a dirty blond, but Peter couldn't tell if it was permanent or just the result of actual dirt in his hair. Something dark hid behind the familiar electric blue of his eyes. But he was doing that dumb dopey smile, the one that Peter couldn't help but love.

 

God, he was still perfect, and Peter was still hopelessly in love with him.

 

“Um.” Peter finally choked out. His clothes! That's what Johnny had been asking about. “Reed and the kids came up with new uniforms.”

 

“Well, they're hideous.” Johnny took a few steps closer, almost as if he couldn't believe Peter was alive either.

 

“You're-” Peter swallowed, tracing a finger along Johnny's collarbone. “You're dead. You died.” His fingers traced light circles into the base of Johnny's neck. It was so familiar yet so foreign. He could feel tears burning at the back of his eyes.

 

Johnny chuckled, leaning into Peter's touch. “More than once. Still looking better than you are.”

 

“Oh my God,” Peter murmured, looping his arms around Johnny's waist. He lifted him up into the air and let out a whoop. “You're alive!”

 

Johnny wrapped his legs around Peter and held his face in his hands, and before Peter could process anything he was pushing his mask up and kissing him. Peter could feel the tears soaking the inside of his mask, because wow, this wasn't some dream and Johnny really was alive and Johnny was  _ kissing him- _

 

Peter pulled away gently, bringing their foreheads together. “Hey, listen,” he murmured. Wow, he'd missed Johnny's eyes. Big, blue, beautiful. “There's something I haven't done yet, and after you… um, well, I realized I should've done it a lot sooner. So.” He reached up to pull his mask off the rest of the way, but was met with Johnny's gentle fingers.

 

“Hey. Are you sure?” The dumbfounded smile had faded from his face. “I know how important this is to you, and I don't want you to feel like-”

 

Peter pushed a gloved finger to Johnny's lips. “Shh. It's okay. I've had way too long to think about this. The rest of the team already knows, anyway; they were bound to find out what with you giving me your spot and all.”

 

Johnny nodded, and Peter guided his hands to the edges of his mask. “You can do the honors, matchstick.”

 

Peter squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the mask leave his face. He slowly blinked them open, adjusting to the new light without his lenses. His eyes found their way to Johnny's.

 

“Um. Hi. I'm Peter.”

 

Johnny sat there silently, still in Peter's arms, and traced the lines of Peter's face, drinking it all in. Peter could feel the blush creeping up to his cheeks; he felt strangely vulnerable like this. Peter saw Johnny mouth  _ Peter _ , and thought he saw a sparkly tear trail down Johnny's cheek. He had freckles. Peter hadn't ever noticed that before. He gently wiped the tear away with his thumb, and Johnny finally spoke.

 

“C’mere, gorgeous,” he murmured, pressing their lips together again. “I missed you so much,” Johnny said against his mouth.

 

“Oh, you have no idea,” Peter breathed, splaying a hand across Johnny's back. He could feel Johnny's hands in his hair, and he'd forgotten how good that felt, and he was sure he'd never felt happier than in that moment. He'd forgotten how much he  _ wanted. _

 

“Okay, okay...” Johnny gasped against Peter. He pulled away, and Peter tried to follow, stumbling a little. He kissed Johnny's fiery smile. “Put me down, love.” Peter complied.

 

“So... nice fireworks.” Johnny took a long look around.

 

“Yeah. World ending. Kree invasion. You know the drill.”

 

“Yes. Yes, I certainly do.” Johnny flashed him another killer smile. “Here, hold my Annihulus.” Peter took the chain from Johnny's hand. “There's something I need to do.”

 

Moments later, a number four was blazing in the sky, and Peter had never felt happier.

 

\--

 

The clock had just struck midnight when Johnny heard two gentle knocks at his window. He shot up in bed, feeling more relieved than he should have.

 

He opened the window and was assaulted by a harsh wind and biting rain. “Hey, Torch,” Spider-man-- Peter-- said, crawling into Johnny’s room and dripping rainwater everywhere. He peeled off his soaking-wet mask and, with a sigh of relief, threw it into a corner.

 

“Come right in, why don't you.” Johnny flew to his closet, chucking a t-shirt and sweatpants in Peter’s general direction. “Dry off, idiot,” he mumbled, lopsided smile finding its way onto his face. Once he’d returned from Johnny’s bathroom, he fell into Johnny’s arms, and Johnny didn’t need him to speak to know that he was freezing. He slowly cranked up his body heat, and Peter sighed into his shoulder. He ran a hand through his still-soaked hair and waited for the steam to subside.

 

Peter leaned up to give him a peck on the cheek. “Long time no see,” he said. “You gotta tell me what’s wrong, matchstick.”

 

Peter was right. They hadn’t seen each other since the gate. Maybe Johnny had been avoiding him on purpose; maybe he preferred flying around the city looking for trouble instead of talking-- or even thinking-- about the Negative Zone. Johnny’s hand found its way to Peter’s and he led him over to his bed, sitting down and letting his feet dangle over the edge. Peter closed his other hand around Johnny’s, resting his head on his shoulder.

 

“I… I’m just…” Johnny swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m just scared.”

 

“Of what, darling?” Peter didn’t look up, just kept rubbing comforting circles into Johnny’s hand with his thumb. Johnny could smell his rainswept hair. Peter always smelled like webbing and the wind. Johnny had forgotten what Peter smelled like.

 

“I don’t know… it’s just crazy. That it only felt like a few months for me, and I was actually gone for two years.” Johnny buried his nose in Peter’s hair. “I missed you so much. You kept me going, you know. Every time I felt like giving up, I thought about you and how I was going to get out of there one day and see you again.”

 

Johnny heard Peter sniff. “I thought about you every day,” he mumbled. “Probably wasn't healthy. But I did. And the thing was, I blamed myself. Your sister told me not to, but I-”

 

“Hey.” Johnny felt a surge of protectiveness come over him. He lifted Peter's chin up and planted a soft kiss on his lips. “Don't do that. In no way was any of this your fault. I just want you to be happy, and for you to know that. Okay?”

 

Peter nodded. Johnny kissed him again, a little longer this time. He loved the way Peter tilted his head and leaned up into the kiss. He'd forgotten what this was like.

 

“Woah, hey, watch the body temp, hot stuff,” Peter chuckled, breaking away. Johnny realized there were sparks in his hair. Ugh. He hated when that happened.

 

“I should probably get going anyway,” Peter mumbled. He started to get up, but Johnny held a firm grip on his arm, tugging him back towards the bed.

 

“No. Stay. Please?” Johnny's voice went from panicked to exhausted. “I… haven't been getting much sleep.” From the look Peter gave him, he knew exactly what Johnny meant (and was all too familiar with it).

 

“Of course.” Peter climbed into Johnny's bed, laying down and motioning for Johnny to join him. He gladly fell into Peter's arms.

 

Peter silently started carding a hand through Johnny's hair, and Johnny could feel himself fighting a blush. It was these soft, intimate moments with Peter that caught him off guard; it let him know that Peter really cared about him, and that was something Johnny had been missing in previous relationships.

 

Johnny rolled around so that he was facing Peter. He drank in all of his features: the deep brown eyes, the high cheekbones, the soft hair with a bit of a curl to it that Johnny hadn't noticed, a freckle or two dotting his face. Johnny hid a smile, and Peter pecked his forehead.

 

“What is it?” Johnny could feel Peter's laughter against his body.

 

“Nothing. Just getting used to you having a face.” Johnny curled a finger around Peter's chin and traced his jawline.

 

He hadn't realized how much he'd missed this.

 

Peter must have noticed his shift in demeanor. “Talk to me, beautiful.”

 

Johnny took a deep breath. “You know how you asked me what I was scared of earlier?” Peter nodded. “I guess I'm scared of messing this up. Of hurting you, of hurting my family.”

 

Peter frowned.

 

“Ever since I got back, I've had trouble controlling my powers. I haven't had to finely tune them for so long, it just feels like they could get out of control at any second. I'm afraid of that, Peter.” Johnny sighed, curling into Peter. He felt Peter's calming hand in his hair again, and he felt tears pricking at his eyes. He'd known he needed this sort of comfort, he just didn't realize how much. He curled in, pressing himself closer to Peter.

 

“Hey, shhh,” Peter soothed. “It's going to be alright. You're the strongest person I know, Johnny Storm. You'll get through this.”

 

“Hey, Peter…” Johnny whispered against his chest. “I… I love you.”

 

Peter pressed a kiss into Johnny's hair. Johnny thought he could feel a smile. “Love you too, flamebrain.”

 

Johnny fell asleep to Peter's soft breathing and gentle hands carding through his hair. It was the best sleep he'd gotten in two years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (most) dialogue in the first part lifted from fantastic four#600/601.  
> hope you enjoyed this chapter :) tumblr: flamebrain


	6. +1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry for the wait y'all, this is a shorter chapter but i hope you enjoy it! i haven't had much time in my schedule to work on this, but it's finally done. i might go back and do some editing/revising since i wrote this over the span of 4 months
> 
> also, i'm working on another fic which should be out in its entirety within the next month! stay tuned :)  
> tumblr: flamebrain

9:03 PM. From  **firefly 🔥**

_ Hey Pete, it's Johnny. Wanna come over to Baxter to Netflix and chill? ;) _

 

9:25 PM. From  **firefly 🔥**

_ If you're busy right now it's alright, I understand. _

 

10:17 PM. From  **firefly 🔥**

_ Peter _

 

10:53 PM. From  **firefly 🔥**

_ Seriously? Nothing? Not cool. _

 

12:00 AM. _ Missed call from  _ **_firefly 🔥._ **

 

1:05 AM. From  **firefly 🔥**

_ Hey can we talk? _

 

3:34 AM. From  **firefly** 🔥

_ You've got issues, Parker _

 

8:45 AM.  _ Missed call from  _ **_firefly 🔥._ **

 

8:47 AM. From  **firefly 🔥**

_ Please respond. I'm getting worried _

 

Peter awoke to a pounding in his head - and a pounding on the window. He blinked his eyes open, instantly regretting it. The bright light from the window shot straight through his skull.

 

He heard a muffled voice through the window among the rattling. “Hey, asshole!” He squinted-

 

“Ah, shit,” Peter muttered amidst cries of “Let me in!” Peter made a motion with his hands of lifting the window up, mouthing “It's unlocked.” He couldn't bring himself to get out of bed. His entire body, ironically, felt like it was on fire. His senses were going wild. He hadn't been overloaded like this for a long time.

 

Peter heard the window slide open (too loud) and felt the breeze across his skin (too cold). His head pounded. He collapsed back onto the bed, and his mouth let out a grunt.

 

“Holy shit, Pete,” Johnny gasped. “What happened?”

 

“Oh, you know…” Peter winced. “The usual.” He picked at a piece of torn fabric hanging from the suit that he was still wearing. He let out a frustrated sigh. Peter never looked forward to repairing the suit.

 

“No, hey…” Johnny’s tone softened as he crossed the room, kneeling in front of Peter. He sounded like he was underwater. Johnny ghosted a finger over a scratch on Peter’s side, and he tried to hold back a wince. Johnny’s face was evidence that he hadn’t succeeded.

 

“Why do you do this?” Johnny muttered, almost as if he didn’t want Peter to hear.

 

“Do what?”

 

Johnny looked up. His blue eyes were usually soft and comforting, but now they were ice shards piercing through Peter. “Come on, you know what I mean, Peter.” His tone was firm, but Peter could hear the concerned warble in his voice. “You go out and nearly get yourself killed, and then you decide to just bleed out on your bed without telling anyone? I called you! All you had to do was pick up the phone! It was that easy.”

 

“I…” Peter swallowed. “I just didn’t think I needed help.”

  
  
Johnny shifted. “What, you’re just not gonna let anyone care about you? Listen, I know you think you can just do everything on your own, because that’s what you’ve always done, but you can’t. You can’t, Pete!” He put his head in his hands. “I’ve been so fucking worried about you. In the back of my mind I’m always scared that you’re dead. You know that, right? Please, please just let me help you.”

 

Peter reached for one of Johnny’s hands. When he drew it away, he noticed Johnny’s eyes were red, and his hand was wet with tears. “I’m sorry,” Peter whispered. Johnny pressed his head into Peter’s chest, and Peter buried his nose in his soft hair. “I’m sorry.”

 

Peter let Johnny help him out of the bed and into his bathtub. Johnny turned on the water, and Peter let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know how much he’d needed this. "Deja vu, much?" he commented. Johnny rolled his eyes.

 

“I think at this point you can just take the suit off, yeah?” Johnny murmured. Peter’s eyes must have widened a little, because then Johnny laughed. “No, not like that, you idiot. You’re like, actually dying, save it.” Peter started laughing too, because Johnny’s laugh was infectious, and he could practically feel the melancholy joy radiating off Johnny, and Peter had never thought he’d feel more in love than he did in this moment.

 

One bath and a clothing change later, Peter was helped back onto the bed. He sat with his legs hanging over the edge and caught the back of Johnny’s neck before he drew away, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “Shouldn’t you be laying down?” Johnny murmured against Peter’s mouth.

 

Peter smiled. “Healing factor.” He scooped his hands under Johnny’s thighs and stood up, lifting Johnny with him. Johnny’s legs curled around his back, and their foreheads knocked together as Peter scrambled for balance.

 

“Woah, take it easy,” Johnny said, laughing. He pecked Peter’s lips as he found his way back to the bed. Peter fell on his back, and Johnny fell with him, knocking the breath out of him. For a moment they just lay there, catching their breath as Peter carded a hand through Johnny’s hair and Johnny nestled his face in the crook of Peter’s neck.

 

“Hey,” Johnny mumbled. Peter felt his hot breath on his skin. “Do you want me to-”

 

“Stay,” Peter interrupted. Although he knew Johnny was going to ask if he needed to leave, he sensed that he didn’t really want to. And Peter didn’t want him to either.

 

Johnny gave a sigh of content, and Peter felt his body heat rise ever so slightly as he threw a blanket over the both of them. Peter put his arms around Johnny, holding him close. He buried a kiss in his golden hair as he nuzzled back into Peter.

 

“G’night, Pete.”

 

“Night, hot stuff.”

 

Johnny felt his heart swell in his chest when he woke to sunlight streaming through the window, still held tight in Peter’s arms.


End file.
